


Day 23: The Functionist Universe

by GemmaRose



Series: Lost Light Fest 2018 [23]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Cassetticon Hot Rod, Functionist Universe (Transformers), Gen, Transformers: Lost Light 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-14 07:32:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16488332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: This isn't the first time he's seen a corrupt government turn on one of their own cities. It's not the first time he's seen the threat of annihilation looming over the rooftops. It's not the first time he'd had the power to make sure that the big mechs in charge don't get their way.But this time will be different. He won't let Adaptica become a second Nyon.





	Day 23: The Functionist Universe

“Here come the tractor beams, right on cue.” Nine-of-Twelve said, his voice terrifyingly level. 

“You knew this was going to happen?” Megatron challenged, and Rodimus let him. Sure he had rank, but that meant very little outside of his crew and Megatron was _far_ better at being threatening.

“No!” Nine-of-Twelve raised his hands in a placating gesture. “I honestly thought the Black Box Consortia had taken possession! I thought Six-of-Twelve had abandoned his plans!”

“Plans? What plans?” Rodimus frowned, stepping up just between Megatron and the Councillor.

“ _Details_ , Councillor, before we decide you're _complicit_ in whatever's about to happen.” Megatron growled, and Rodimus held up a hand to stop his officer from stepping forward to further menace their probably-ally.

“Cybertron has no naturally occurring oceans, and therefore no _tides_ , nothing for Luna 2 to control.” Nine-of-Twelve said quickly, single optic flicking from Rodimus to Megatron with tiny movements of his helm. “As far as Six-of-Twelve was concerned, that meant the moon had no _function_ , a problem that had to be _rectified_. He planned on converting it into an interstellar _recycling unit_.” he gestured somewhat helplessly at the beams of light coming down from the moon’s surface, illuminating the streets of Adaptica. “It would strip uninhabited planets of metals and minerals and teleport them home, to be used to _enlarge_ and _enhance_ Cybertron in honour of Primus.”

“Whoa, press pause.” Rodimus waved a hand in front of his face, optics narrowing as he ran over that infodump a second time in his processor. “Did you just say-”

“Rodimus, hush.” Megatron said sharply, and Rodimus actually turned to gape up at him. “So the whole city's about to be scraped off the surface...”

“That's why the Council let the refugees come here, so they could be killed _en masse_.” Nine-of-Twelve said solemnly, and Rodimus shelved the issue of disciplining Megatron for disrespecting the chain of command for a later time.

“You said this was a safe place...” Megatron’s voice was still low, but no longer threatening.

“It _was_ , and not just because it's a _sacred city_. The council leaves us alone because of _me_.” Nine-of-Twelve pressed a hand over his spark, and Rodimus stood a little taller when the mech’s optic went from Megatron to Rewind and settled on him. “They can't _kill_ me because one day they might _need_ me.”

“That's right, you're _combiners_ aren't you?” Rewind cried, hands gripping his helm. “Without you-”

“Without me, the Council can't turn into the key to Vector Sigma.” Nine-of-Twelve confirmed.

“You said Sixer was making the moon into a planetary scale recycling unit, right?” Rodimus spoke up, gesturing at where the purported tractor beams were shining down on the city.

“Yes. And likely one even more powerful than he initially planned.”

“Then _why aren’t you evacuating?_ ” he hissed, optics locking on Nine-of-Twelve’s singular golden one. “And _don’t_ tell me you’ve not got a plan. You wouldn’t’ve gotten half this far if you were _that_ stupid.”

“Rodimus.” Megatron said reproachfully, and Rodimus whirled to jab a finger at him.

“ _You_ keep your mouth shut.”

“Captain!” Minimus called, running out onto the balcony. “This isn’t a coincidence.”

“What’s not a coincidence?” Rodimus asked, turning to give his SIC his full attention.

“The return of Luna 2, Rung's supposed alt-mode, the plan to break into the Primal Chamber... these aren't random events. This has been _orchestrated_.”

“I was _saying_ tha-”

“Megatron, I am _ordering_ you to shut up.” Rodimus snapped. “Nine-of-Twelve, if they’re going to turn that harvester on Adaptica you need to start evacuating _now_.”

“Where to?” the councilmech challenged. “Where can we run that Luna 2 won’t follow?”

“Figure that out later. Get your people moving _now_.” he glanced at the moon, ominously still and silent over the tops of the buildings, and reached into his subspace to grip the copper-etched crystal disc Jumpstart had given him so long ago, on that fateful day when he’d blackened his hands and spark alike with the scorched energon of a city.

“Luna 2 will follow them.” Minimus pointed out, and Rodimus gritted his denta. “Also, loathe as I am to admit it, Megatron has a point regarding Rung. Whatever the council’s plans for him, they cannot possibly end well for Adaptica or her people.”

“Slag.” he swore, and turned to Nine-of-Twelve, who had a hand up to one audial, hopefully giving directions over his internal comms. “Hey, Nine-of-Twelve.” he said sharply, drawing the mech’s attention. “This mech spent four million years running a war.” he pointed at Megatron, and felt the old warlord stiffen in surprise. “Give him control of whatever defenses you have, and you might even have a city to come home to. I’ll take a team to handle the Rung situation.” he turned to Rewind, paused, and turned back to Minimus.

“Mags, you make sure Megatron here doesn’t do a runner. And keep Luna 2 intact if you can, with the Council’s ban on space travel it may be our only way back to the rest of the crew.”

“Wha- how?” Minimus’s optic ridges drew together.

“It was meant to be mining other planets, right? Even if it’s been turned on us here, odds are it’s still got a damn powerful teleporter.”

Minimus’s optics widened, and Rodimus flashed him a grin. “What? I can pay attention sometimes.” he managed a laugh, fingers tight around the last remaining piece of Nyon he had. If this went well, none of Adaptica’s citizens would end tonight with only a broken trinket to remember their home by.


End file.
